


Surprise!

by JantoJones



Series: Further Brief Briefings [11]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 07:11:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13453116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones





	Surprise!

The small private theatre, belonging to Freddy Swann, had only a few seats; all of which were occupied. The tiny stage, which was hidden from view by the crimson velvet curtain, held a surprise for the assembled guests. It was one which Swann was certain would raise him to bigger and better things. 

Reaching the upper echelons of Thrush was a dream he had long held and, although he had come up from grunt level already, it wasn’t enough. Swann wanted money and glory, but above all, he wanted power. The prize he had captured for his Thrush masters all but guaranteed him his elevation.

It hadn’t been easy, but after many weeks of planning, Freddy Swann finally had Illya Kuryakin in his clutches. The U.N.C.L.E. agent had eventually been snatched as he exited a grocery store. That had been a couple of days ago and, while waiting for his honoured guests to travel to his remote estate, Swann had indulged in a little light interrogation. Of course, he hadn’t gleaned anything from the man, but it weakened him enough to take the fight out of him.

Not that Swann had taken any chances. Throughout his confinement, Kuryakin had been exceptionally well secured. Even now, behind the curtain, he was strapped tightly to a chair and had two guards on him. The little runt wouldn’t be going anywhere until it was time for him to go to Central.

Wanting to make a big deal of his surprise, Freddy had laid on an intimate cocktail party. Although the drink had flowed quite well, Angelo Cox soon tired of the grovelling wannabe and demanded to know why he had been dragged to the middle-of-nowhere. Swann had taken Cox, and his entourage, to the little theatre. As they took their seats he positioned himself to one side of the stage. He took the rope for the curtains in his and turned to address his audience.

“For many years, Illya Kuryakin has been a bane to Thrush. He and his partner have thwarted many plans, and eliminated too many good operatives. Well, from now on, Napoleon Solo will have to live up to his name.”

With a theatrical flourish, Swann pulled the rope, and the curtains swept aside to reveal . . .

. . . an empty chair.

The two guards were slumped, unconscious, at either side, but Kuryakin was conspicuous by his absence.

The triumphant grin slid from Swann’s face, along with any trace of blood. It took every ounce of strength to turn to his superior.

“I’m so sorry Sir, I don’t . . .”

Cox held up a hand to cut him off.

“Get yourself ready to travel,” he ordered. “ Central are going to be interested in your explanation.”


End file.
